


Your Body is a Wonderland

by buckys_stripper_splits



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral, Sleepy Bucky, Sleepy Sex, Steve Rogers Comes Home, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 00:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckys_stripper_splits/pseuds/buckys_stripper_splits
Summary: steve gets all lovey dovey with bucky after coming home from a mission(inspired byTHISadorable drawing by @umikochannart and also ive been listening to Your Body Is a Wonderland on fucking repeat for some ungodly reason)





	Your Body is a Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> I FEEL LIKE THIS CONCEPT GETS USED A LOT AAAAA IM SORRY BUT I HAVE TO JUMP ON THE BANDWAGON  
> (since uploading i have edited it so it should be a bit better and smoother!!)

The apartment is dark and quiet as Steve eases the front door shut, slowly turning the lock with a still breath in hopes that the click won't be loud enough to wake his boyfriend. Thankfully, it was muffled by his gloved hand and he sighs, placing the keys in the little bowl by their door.

Steve notices that, while the apartment hadn't changed drastically in the month he was gone, aspects of how Bucky went about his day shown through. The pillows on the couch were messily strewn about, and a book was left open on their coffee table next to a mug of cold tea and a plate. He has an impulse to put everything back into order, but his aching muscles were drawing him to bed.

He winces with every step down the hall— his ribs and back really took a beating during the fight— motivated by the promise of finally, _finally_ peeling off his suit, cuddling up next to his Bucky, and sleeping for the first time in weeks. As he nears the bedroom door, he hears Bucky snoring away, deep in sleep. Bucky hardly ever slept nowadays so it warms Steve's heart to know that he's getting the rest he badly needs.

Steve slowly turns the door handle and creeps inside the dimly lit room. The moonlight that peeks through the curtains shows on Bucky's sleeping face and he smiles. Bucky looks so genuinely peaceful like this.

Steve pushes himself forward with slow steps, quiet against the plush carpet, so he can lean over the bed and press his lips against Bucky's hair, damp from his shower. Bucky stirs and moans a bit in his sleep and Steve hushes him softly. Slowly, his glassy eyes force themselves open to see who was above him.

"Steve," he croaks out. A small, sleepy smile crosses his lips once he sees that Steve was home, safe and sound.

"Sshhh..." Steve whispers. He strokes Bucky's long hair and places another kiss against his forehead. "Go back to sleep, doll. I'll be in bed soon, ok?"

Steve gets a tired _hmm_ in response before Bucky rolls over and the soft snoring continues once again. Steve goes to their en suite, still a little humid so Bucky couldn't have used it that long ago, and kicks off his boots to massage his aching feet. Then he gets to work on peeling off his heavy suit, nearly moaning in relief as each layer is tediously removed.

The mission went by easily enough, but it did leave some battle wounds. Nothing major, of course, just a few bumps and bruises. Ok, maybe Steve had a nasty gash on the side of his left arm, but he had no one to blame but his own reckless self. Besides, with the serum it'd be gone in a few days.

He knew Bucky would still fuss over it no matter how fast Steve's regeneration was because that's just how Bucky is. Always so protective over his Steve. Like he forgets that he's no longer the 100 pound kid from Brooklyn who was always picking fights. Steve hisses as he pulls the bloodied gauze from his arm. The cut was already healing tremendously, but he knows that the scar will most likely stay. He carefully dabs some soapy water around the wound with gritted teeth and a shaky hand, and reapplies a new piece of gauze.

He has no energy to hop in the shower, no matter how tempting hot water on his sore body is, so he brushes his teeth, pulls on his sleep pants, and finally crawls into bed. Once he lays down he sighs, melting. It almost felt foreign, being in a safe environment all of a sudden. Steve notices that he usually feels like this after missions, and remembers that Sam mentioned once that he goes through the same thing. At least he isn't alone.

Instead of letting those thoughts invade his last few hours of consciousness, Steve pulls the covers around his body, tucking himself in. He notices that Bucky had thrown most of their pillows into one of the corners of the room and he smiles to himself. He can almost hear Bucky mumbling about how _not one single person in the world needs this many pillows, Steve._

Despite missing their warm bed, cozy home, shower (especially the jet setting on the shower head) the one thing Steve missed the most was Bucky. He missed waking up to his gorgeous face, missed being able to sit comfortably in each other's arms to read or watch tv in silence.

A whole month without any contact had Steve going absolutely crazy. He feels touch deprived and almost like he forgot the feel of Bucky's skin. Stark had cautioned them about calling in case the enemy would track the signals so he never got a word in to Bucky, leaving them both a little insane. But it's all over now. Steve is finally home and he's so close to Bucky he can smell his freshly cleaned skin and it's intoxicating.

He carefully wraps his arms around Bucky's waist and pulls him to his chest with ease. Bucky is still nearly asleep so he goes willingly. Once Steve settles on his side, arms around his boyfriend, he feels Bucky shift. He watches as those storm-grey eyes slowly open once more, blink for a second, and then focus on Steve's features, blurred from the dim light. He smiles.

Bucky missed Steve so much that seeing him now is almost like a dream. He forces his eyes to drink in every detail on Steve's tired face just in case some evil force takes him away again. Ultimately, Bucky's eyes wander over the injuries left behind from the mission and concern takes over.

"Was'a mission ok?" he mumbles, voice raspy. Steve chuckles in that soft, loving way of his and strokes Bucky's hair. His fingertips lightly scratch the back of his scalp, making Bucky moan and lean into the touch.

"It went as smoothly as it could, Buck," Steve reassures him. "The team's ok, we're all ok. We're a bit slower without you Serge, but you need time."

Bucky lets out a huff at the last part. He hated that Stark was forcing him into house arrest while everyone else was out there risking their lives for ' _the greater good_ ', as Steve would say. Maybe Bucky needed time to heal, who knows? Hydra had done unspeakable things to him, sure, but that was almost half a year ago. Bucky had one meltdown last month during a sparring match with Sam and Stark about lost his mind.

_"We can't have you going AWOL during the real fight, Tin Man," Stark told him. "How 'bout you sit this one out?"_

And Bucky _hated_ that Starks logic made sense. _It always does..._

Bucky had no idea if he would breakdown again so he had no choice but to stay home. But that's didn't stop him from wanting to fight. He _needed_ to prove that he wasn't the brainwashed puppet people made him out to be anymore; could you blame him?

"You ok, baby?" Steve's voice is filled with concern and it makes Bucky look up at him. Steve is staring down at him with his famous Concerned Look. The one that makes him look like a big, worried, golden retriever— eyebrows knit, head cocked. Bucky smiles and shifts on the bed to make more room for him. Steve takes the opportunity to roll them both completely over so Bucky is trapped underneath him.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Jus' a lil tired," he chuckles, evident by the sleep slur in his voice. Steve hums softly, like he knows that's only partially true but doesn't push it, and runs his hand over Bucky's forehead to brush his hair back. He trails that hand down until he feels the soft skin of Bucky's cheek, and dips down to kiss his plush lips. He groans against their familiar softness and kisses deeper, wanting to make up for the lost time between them.

"A month without your lips, Buck," Steve mumbles into his mouth. "I don't know how I survived. Missed you so much."

"Steve," Bucky chuckles. He laces his fingers behind Steve's neck and lazily pulls him closer. "So dramatic."

Steve smiles, his eyes crinkling with the softness behind it, and he leans down to peck Bucky's lips once more. "It's true," he says. He presses his lips to the corner of his mouth and then his cheek. "I missed you so much. Dreamt about you almost every night, Buck." His lips leave an open-mouthed trail from Bucky's cheek to his sharp jawline. Steve's beard tickles against his face, making the smaller man let out a weak giggle.

"Oh yeah?" Bucky mumbles, knowing what Steve wants. "What'du dream about, Rogers?" He cards his fingers through Steve's thick, blonde hair as he continues to kiss down. Steve mouths at his clothed collarbones, completely aware of the effect he had, and Bucky gasps when teeth drag against sensitive skin. Steve lets out another groan, more so out of comfort than sexual pleasure.

"Well," he starts, slowly dragging a hand down to play at the hem of Bucky's shirt.   
"I dreamt about... Your eyes—"   
_kiss_ ,   
"Your voice—"   
_kiss_ ,   
"Your touch... _God_ , you don't know how much I missed your touch. Thought I was gonna go insane without you, doll."

He nuzzles along Bucky's throat, breathing deep and smelling the peach body wash that he had bought by accident once upon a time. Bucky swore he hated it— claimed it was far too _feminine_ for an ex Russian assassin— but Steve loved how it smelled on him so he continued to buy it ever since. And ok, maybe Bucky didn't hate it all _that_ much.

Steve continues to place small kisses along his neck, trailing along the stretch of skin until he's eye level with Bucky again.

"Missed you, Stevie," Bucky whispers, strained. Steve's hand slowly trails up his shirt, calloused fingers feeling the soft skin of his tummy like someone was going to take it away from him if he didn't. The touch was urgent, but soft, just making sure to feel every inch. His fingers run across Bucky's flat, toned stomach all the way up to the bottom of his sternum, taking his shirt with it, leaving it bunched under his armpits. Bucky knew Steve was going to take his time so he didn't push it, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't getting a little restless.

"Your skin is so soft, baby," Steve mumbles, going back to drawing lazy circles against Bucky's tummy, tickling him. "And you're so sensitive, Buck. Could touch you for hours just to watch you squirm."

His lips find the skin of Bucky's throat and get to work on gently sucking a mark just below his Adam's apple. Bucky lets out a quiet moan— quiet like the wind blowing outside the bedroom window.

Bucky is completely and utterly surrounded by him in a haze of heat and love and want.   
His fingers grab at Steve's arms, careful not to touch the cut on his left, and feel all the way up to his shoulders. He sinks his blunt nails into the muscle there and Steve grunts.

"You're so beautiful. You know that, Buck?" He mumbles against his skin. Bucky's face heats up and he lets out a huff. He was never one for compliments, especially after Hydra. He would always shy away from them anytime Steve got a little too lovey dovey, but he would only hold him closer and tell him how pretty and strong and perfect he was.

Bucky stills, then mutters with a scoff, "Stevie, don't be ridiculous," and turns his face to the side, avoiding his boyfriend's gaze entirely.

Steve sits up by his arms and pulls Bucky's face back by his chin. He takes his time looking at every single one of his drowsy features. The barest hint of a blush high on his cheekbones was made clearer by the moonlight, and Steve brushes his thumb over it, admirably. "You _are_ , baby," he says, earnest, voice like warm honey. Bucky can only watch as Steve leans down again and leaves a small kiss on his tummy, just above his belly button, where his shirt had ridden up. He nuzzles at the warm skin, taking in how it feels and smells, going slow to savor it. Bucky pushes himself up on his forearms to get a better view of him and bites his lip.

Steve was honestly a sight to behold: still a little worn from the mission, blonde hair and beard in a messy tousle, and a sweet, pink blush covered the apples of his cheeks. When he moved to a certain angle, Bucky could see the fresh sheen of sweat that was starting to cover his body, and it too was beautiful.

" _You are perfect_ ," Steve says, ignoring Bucky's little shivers and groans, and goes back to kissing and licking patterns over his body, but this time it's more heated. It has more urgency behind it, and there's no mistaking what he's silently asking— begging— for.

" _S-Steve_..."

"Mmm... So goddamn perfect. You have no _idea_ how much I missed you."

"I think I might have _some_ idea," Bucky laughs, and Steve nips at his hipbone playfully, pulling a sweet _uh_ from his lips before he has to muffle a yawn against the back of his hand.

Steve is meticulous when kissing down further, careful to avoid direct contact with the tent in Bucky's underwear. He sucks and nips at his inner thighs, making sure to leave nice, dark hickeys in his wake. Steve absolutely _loves_ marking Bucky up, loves showing the world who he belongs to. And even though Bucky rolls his eyes whenever someone teasingly points them out, he loves it too.

Bucky lets out a gasp when Steve sinks his teeth into the giving flesh of his upper thigh and darts his tongue out to soothe it.

"Mmm, could eat you up, babydoll," he says through a chuckle. "You smell _so_ good. Bet you taste even better."

So, without warning, Steve attaches his lips to the head of Bucky's dick through his underwear and suckles, pressing the head with his tongue, wetting the fabric. Bucky jerks forward with a moan. This is the most stimulation he's had in over a month, and it's most definitely a step up from just his fingers.

"S-Stevie," he pants, feeling the way Steve smiles against him. Steve reaches up to hook his fingers in the waistband of the underwear and gives them a little tug.

"Say my name again, sugar," he says, almost like he's begging. It's not demanding, it's sweet; a gentle command, his voice in between a low grumble and a whisper. Bucky bites his lip again.

" _Steve_."

With a humming chuckle, Steve tugs Bucky's underwear down and he halfheartedly lifts his hips in assistance. "That's it," Steve coos. He flings the fabric somewhere behind them and starts to kiss up and down Bucky's bare shaft, massaging his inner thighs as he does so. Bucky's tempted to push Steve's head a little to urge him on, but simply intertwines their fingers instead, squeezing and panting. He moans out Steve's name once again, rocking his hips up against his lips, and that seems to do the trick. Steve takes the tip of Bucky's dick into his mouth and sucks, tasting the small bit of pre cum that had budded out. Slowly, he takes his dick halfway into his mouth and pulls back up again to play his tongue against the slit, humming at the taste.   
He pulls off with a quiet pop and looks back at Bucky with a smile.

"Mmm, you _do_ taste better," he says, licking his lips, slick with spit and pre come. A whine pulls itself from Bucky's throat from loss of stimulation, and is quickly replaced by a loud gasp as Steve takes him all the way into his hot mouth. He sucks him like he'd die otherwise, bobbing and hollowing his cheeks, pressing his tongue just under the head and Bucky barely holds back, mewing at the stimulation, but suddenly needing more.

"G-gimme a kiss," he near begs, panting, and Steve slowly, _slowly_ pulls off of him, making sure to tease the head with his tongue one more time before crawling back up Bucky's overheated body.

"Been givin' you kisses, love," he sasses.   
Bucky rolls his tired eyes and places his hands on Steve's narrow hips. Steve gives him a dopey smirk. _The tease._

He dips his head down to catch Bucky's lips in another claiming kiss— slow and deep— until their lips are wet and sore, and the air between them is thick from panting. Steve's tongue traces Bucky's bottom lip, needy, making him moan out softly and push up against him.

Bucky lazily kisses back; too tired to be fully coordinated, but interested enough that the kiss isn't unpleasant. Although he can taste himself on Steve's lips, it's not their most heated kiss, but that doesn't matter. Steve intends on showing Bucky just how much he missed him with tender, loving touches. They have all the time in the world, and it's high time they take advantage of it.

Steve feels like he's forgotten Bucky's body and the glorious shape of it in the past month so his large hands run up and down his sides greedily, right up under his pecs and _down, down, down_ to his cute, little ass. He smirks against the kiss and gives his ass a squeeze, just to tease him further.

"Gone for a whole month and you still have time to be a tease," Bucky says. He shifts, trying to urge Steve on, but to no avail. "You're the _worst_ , Rogers."

Steve snorts, holding back any snarky comments he has, and settles on sucking a mark just below Bucky's ear. "And you're impatient," he says back. He kneads Bucky's soft skin in his hands, really working him up, and pushes his hips against his hard. Bucky lets out a shaky sigh and twitches like he doesn't know which touch he wants to lean into.

He whines, spreading his thighs wider so Steve can easily push against him. He's panting under him— eyes hooded, mouth agape— as his senses slowly wake up. Not all the way; his words are still slurred, movements still slow.

Steve can feel his hardening dick through the thin fabric of his sleep pants, and grinds against it. Lightning goes off behind his eyelids at the contact, so Steve does it again— _and again, and again_ — until they're rutting against each other like animals in heat. Bucky's hands fly to the hem of Steve's sleep pants and tugs.

"C'mon, Steve. Waited long enough," he whispers against his boyfriends ear. He traces the shell of Steve's ear with his tongue where he knows he likes, and that was it. He tugs his own pants down, just past his dick, too tired to get fully naked— and, _oh look_ , he forgot to put underwear on before he came to bed. _How coincidental._

"Steven Grant," Bucky giggles when he notices. "You _dog_."

Steve just rolls his eyes and reaches in his bedside table for lube and a condom—

"Get me one. Don' wanna clean up."

— _two_ condoms before sitting back on his knees. He uncaps the lube and spreads some over his thick fingers. Thankfully, it was just enough before the bottle gave a pathetic squirt and emptied completely.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Bucky. "Who's the dog now?" he teases. Bucky's face flushed and he shoves Steve playfully.

"A month is a long time, Rogers," he breathes. "Couldn't help it. 'M jus' glad I got the real deal now."

That makes Steve groan because _yes_ , they finally have the real thing. Beating hearts pressed against each other in the dark of their bedroom where no one— no _thing_ — can bother them.

Steve uses his knees to push Bucky's thighs apart further and takes his damn sweet time gazing at the sight. Soft and needy is _such_ a good look on Bucky. A flushed little mess, stomach smeared with pre cum and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Steve could die. He oughta snap a picture for later, maybe to bring along on the next mission, but instead he presses his wet index finger against Bucky's hole, rubbing soft, slow circles, drawing a moan from Bucky.

"S-Stevie..." He pushes his hips against the touch, needing more, soft, sleepy sounds leaving those plump lips. Steve finally pushes the tip of his finger past Bucky's tight body, gentle, slow. Like if he made any sudden movement he'd break him.

"I'm here," Steve coos. "You don't gotta wait anymore, Bucky. I'm right here. Right here, baby." He grips Bucky's leg with his free hand and pulls it over his lap, and does the same with the other. His finger pushes deeper inside Bucky, twisting to reach the sweet spot inside him. Bucky lets out a shaky moan and throws an arm over his face to hide the blush.

"Mmm Stevie..." he breathes out, hips jerking.

"Good?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrow in a teasing manner, and Bucky would have rolled his eyes had it not been for the pleasure starting to blur his train of thought.

"Yes, _fuck_. S'good. M-more?" he says it like it's a question, and Steve grins like the Cheshire Cat. He eases in another finger and sets a rough pace. Going slow but dragging his fingers hard against his prostate, pulling sweet love sounds from his swollen, little lips.

Bucky's so tight around Steve's fingers and so warm from sleep that it makes his head spin. His eyes are completely transfixed on the sight before him; such a pretty mess. All laid out and squirming. Bucky's blinking up at him with hooded, glazed eyes. The blush that had dusted his cheeks before, now spans down to his chest, all the way to his navel and matches the blush of his dick— drooling and red— against his stomach.

"Need you," Bucky whispers in a voice that sounds almost dreamy. Like the sheer presence of Steve has him dancing along that comfortable line between conscious and unconscious. Afraid that Bucky might actually fall back asleep, Steve leans down and kisses his red lips, savoring the feel and the taste.

"Anything you want, Buck, it's yours. All for you," he whispers back. He shifts back just enough so he can easily slip a condom over Bucky's dick, and then his own. Then he's all over Bucky again, pressing kisses to his lips and face and neck. He grips his hand tightly and slowly pushes in, past the ring of muscle until he bottoms out. Bucky hisses out soft curses and arches up for it. He can feel Steve's muscles tense as he steadies himself between his thighs, shaking as he lets Bucky adjust.

When Bucky gives a dumb little nod and grips on to his back, Steve thrusts— soft and slow— being as gentle as possible. At first, Bucky's content on humming and mewling into his ear, the pleasure not overly intense as they move and sweat and moan together. But soon, Bucky starts to get restless, the need to come— to give _Steve_ what _he_ needs— overtakes him.

"C'mon, Stevie, harder," he urges. Just because he's tired as hell and nearly asleep doesn't mean that he doesn't want it as much as his boyfriend seems to. Steve lets out a strangled gasp and grips Bucky's hip with his free hand, steadying him as he pushes into him with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall with every other thrust. Steve's hips mimic the rhythm his fingers had prior, making Bucky moan, soft _ah ah ah_ 's flood their moonlit room. Just how Bucky likes it— rough and deep enough to stir his insides.

Bucky grips Steve's strong forearm and peers up at him with starry eyes. Steve looks so damn gorgeous like this. The moonlight colors his otherwise pale skin in hues of soft blues, and the blush high on his cheeks glistens with sweat. Despite how his hair is already tousled from Bucky's fingers and the constant movement between the two, he looks close to ethereal.

"F-fuck, sweetheart," Steve grunts and he sighs, like he's breathing Bucky in. Only Bucky. "Just look at you. So _fuckin_ ' gorgeous like this."

Bucky can see sweat run down his long nose— now permanently crooked on account of how many times it's been broken— and lifts a shaking hand to catch the drop before it falls. Steve captures Bucky's wrist in his hand and kisses his palm. The intimacy of it has Bucky moaning. His moans turn to high whines when Steve sinks his teeth into the inside of his wrist, biting the thin, sensitive skin until it turns pink. The bite wasn't hard enough to hurt, but the sting was pleasant and made Bucky's dick twitch against his stomach.

"Oh, Steve!" Bucky cries when a particularly hard thrust has pleasure shooting up his back. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair again and pulls his head down into the crook of his neck.

"You gettin' close?" he hears Steve ask, voice thick and rough. Bucky nods his head and sinks his nails into Steve's back.

"Ah, _ah_! Fuck, y-yes!" he moans.

Steve lets out a growl and he moves his arms to rest beside Bucky's head as he pounds into him hard enough to make his stomach drop. Bucky's legs wrap around his waist and all he can do is just lay there and take. He feels Steve suck a mark against the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder and nearly cries. The pleasure is so intense and thorough throughout his body he feels like a pile of tired, needy mush, his fingers and toes curling with it.

Steve's cock bumps his prostate and his vision goes white. He's so desperate for release he feels like he could break. "S-Stevie! Fuck, 'm gonna— _c'mon_. So close, so fuckin'—"

Steve detaches himself from Bucky's shoulder and leans up to kiss his ear. "Come for me, sweetheart," he whispers, and Bucky doesn't need to be told twice.

His back arches in that angelic way he's perfected over all the years he's been with Steve, and he lets out a loud, drawn out moan and spills into the condom, his thighs trembling around Steve's waist. Steve barely holds on. Watching Bucky fall apart underneath him is a sight he'd absolutely die for. It's nothing but pure passion, and it sets his nerves on fire every single time.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he says low in Bucky's ear. "And so fuckin' good for me too. So good, Buck."

The words make Bucky twitch as his orgasm washes over him in waves of pleasure. His limbs are completely useless at this point, and all he can do is pant. Steve slows his hips to keep from hurting him. He pushes deep inside, buried to the hilt and lets out a stuttered gasp.

_So fucking close._

A few more shallow thrusts and Bucky feels Steve empty into the condom with a throaty groan and a string of cuss words.   
"B-Bucky," he grits. " _God_ , babydoll."

He can't help but collapse onto Bucky— he's enhanced, he can take it— while his breathing calms. Bucky runs his fingers across his shoulders, back, neck, and through his sweaty hair. "Steve," he whispers. Steve hums in response, blissed out, and looks up at his boyfriend. "You're crushing me."

He can't help but give a tired laugh. Now that he's gotten off he realized just how exhausted he is. "Sorry, honey," Steve says and sits up. He gently pulls off both condoms and throws them into the nearby trash can before settling on his pillow and scooping Bucky close to his chest.

After a calming silence, as the two listen to one another catch their breath, Bucky picks his head up from Steve's chest. "Don't ever leave me that long," he says, and Steve's heart squeezes at how small he sounds. Bucky _never_ sounds small. He leans down and kisses his dark hair.

"I won't, Buck. I'm right here. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Bucky gives a weak smile, his eyes crinkling.

"Who says I want you gone, Rogers?"

 


End file.
